Jetfire's Delivery Service
by TyLeeChan
Summary: Oneshot: Co-written by Consuelo Higdon. In order to be the best flier possible, Jetfire sets off to a new planet to hone his flames. If only a certain femme there didn't make him lose control all the time. Parody of Kiki's Delivery Service JetfirexFlareup


**This is a parody of Hayao Miyazaki's Kiki's Delivery Service, which was quite fun to write XD I wrote it with Consuelo Higdon, which made it even more fun. We both share such a passion for this story and the characters we used. This one was different than my past Ghibli stories, since we changed a lot of the details of the original story, but it still follows the original plot and I think conveys the same emotions and lessons. I also must ask for Jetfire's forgiveness: this is the second time I've written him as an originally female character (he was Setsuko in Grave of the Fireflies) and I plan to do that one more time XD Nothing against Jetfire, I love him to death. He's just not extremely masculine, I guess XD**

**Consuelo: Yay! I get an Author's Note! Okay, in **_**Kiki's Delivery Service, **_**Hayao Miyazaki set it in a world where both World Wars never happened, so I decided to remake the world accordingly; the Great Wars never happened. Other than that, it's pretty much the regular spiel of Transformers; Giant Transforming Robots. : 3**

* * *

Jetfire had never realized that space was so big! He knew that it was big, of course, just not_ this_ big. It was like an endless black nothingness that spread out forever. Stars seemed to be so close when looking at them from home, but he had never gotten up close to one the whole trip. That was probably a good thing. Stars were supposed to be very hot and had a nasty tendency to go super nova and create black holes. He wouldn't want to be near one of those if that happened.

So far, this trip wasn't going at all as he had expected. But then again, he didn't really have much of a plan. Just to fly out into space randomly and find somewhere to stay and learn how to interact with the rest of his kind. Well, not exactly _his kind_, per se, since he was a flier. But he wasn't really doing his namesake right now, what with him stowing away in a random cargo ship.

He wouldn't really call it 'stowing away'. That sounded so immoral, not to mention illegal. He had merely grown a tad weary from the flight, saw the cargo ship passing by and had noticed the hatch was wide open, beckoning him to come in and rest. He wasn't able to resist an opportunity like that, especially with that pass up ahead, all electric and frenzied. He was sure that the cargo ship could handle it much better than he would. At least, he hoped it would. If the ship was in better shape, then the hatch wouldn't have been open in the first place.

He wasn't going to be a bother to anybot on the ship. He would just keep quiet and to himself while he took some time to relax. As long as he wasn't seen, everything would be alright. It appeared that this section of the storage wasn't heavily monitored anyways. He actually thought he saw a small layer of dust on the top of one crate. Just to play it safe, though, he hid himself behind a shipment of energon fairly close to the exit so he could make a run for it if needed. It was never bad to be prepared.

_Jetfire? Jetfire, you being there?_

His faceplate broke out into a grin on hearing his twin's voice.

_Jetstorm! Is vorking! Am hearing clear and loud!_

_Vell, yah. Ve could always be talking like this before. _

_But now ve are being so far apart and I vas afraid…_

_You vorry too much, brother._

_I know, I know. _

Jetfire had never been away from his brother this long before. And this was only the start. One whole stellar cycle he was going to be gone. Usually this isn't a very long time for the average Cybertronian, but to Jetfire it seemed like an eternity. Not being able to see Jetstorm for a whole stellar cycle. Not going to help him out cleaning the laboratory, or make a bigger mess of it like usual. At least he and Jetstorm could still talk to each other and talk about things only he could hear. It was like they were together without really being together.

_So then, brother, how is trip faring so far?_ Jetstorm asked.

_It is being much longer than I thought, but other than that it is amazing! _Jetfire exclaimed. _I've seen so many planets, all being strange colors I have not been seeing on planets before. Some may even been organic! _

_Is sounding exciting. I vish I could be seeing it there vith you._

Jetfire wished that too. But taking the journey with his brother would defeat the purpose of this being an independent study.

Jetfire and Jetstorm were what many called 'fliers'. The term was pretty much self-defined; it meant that a `bot had the ability to transform into a flying vehicle. And that did cause problems occasionally. Once upon a time fliers and their land-vehicle counterparts grew tense around each other, on the basis of prejudice and jealousy, with whispers of war rumbling underneath every interaction a flier and a driver had. Luckily this tension was soon made irrelevant. War never had the chance to break out.

Besides having flight capacity, fliers were also known for having special power. Some of the drivers he had met had shown signs of a 'special power', though it was different from what he knew as a special power. They could turn their bodies into steel or shoot electricity from their servos, which were built into them. Jetfire and Jetstorm had powers over wind and fire. All he had to do now was learn to control it.

Perceptor and Wheeljack, the `bots that created and raised them, had decided that they should take turns going off studying. The sciencebots hadn't been sure what would happen if they would separate the twins that way. Being away for so long and having both of them focused on different things could destroy their special bond. So, instead, they would be going one at a time so as to not rush things.

Jetstorm had offered that Jetfire go first, because he knew if they didn't get it over with now he would never leave. He was right. Jetfire had been very hesitant to go away from home, from the `bots he knew and loved. He cringed at his memories of flailing and crying and screaming out no's to them and hiding in places to avoid going. It took quite a long time before he managed to muster up the courage to leave.

_Brother, I is so sorry, about not vanting to go..._

_Oh, not that again! Is okay! Really! I is understanding you perfectly._

_But vat about Perceptor sir? And Wheeljack sir?_

_They forgive you too, Jetfire. Ve _all_ is forgiving you._

_Is you still loving me?_

_Of course! You is my brother. There is no reason for you to ever be being scared of me not loving you._

_Really?_

_Really._

Jetfire smiled, and began to focus on what was going on around his body. No sense on lingering on the past. Now that he was actually gone and on his way, he no longer felt the same way. He may not be safe and sound and surrounded by the people he loved at the place he knew best, but this was an adventure! As long as he could still talk to Jetstorm, he wouldn't be homesick. And he was forgiven for his tantrum, too.

_So, what have you been doing so far, brother?_

Jetfire took a bit of time finding out the answer to that question. He didn't do much, really, just flew around aimlessly with no direction or destination in mind. He had gotten a bit bored, so he decided to tap into some radio signals. Some of them were boring military hoo-ha he couldn't care less about, but he _did_ find a station full of sound patterns. He had soon learned it was called music, and he really did enjoy it.

At least, until somebot else came along…

_Jetstorm, you vould never be believing! _Jetfire began. _I met another flier!_

_Another flier? Really?_

_Mm-hm. He vas being two times larger than us!_

_Really? You is meaning like, _Grandus _big?_

_No, no, he vas not being as big as _Grandus!

_But he vas being big?_

_Yes! Almost like Spittor ve vas meeting at traveling circus!_

_You really liked traveling circus! I is yet to be hearing a day by-going _vithout_ you mentioning circus!_

_Hey! Is not my fault I is liking circus!_

_I bet you is trying to find circus to be staying vith for your training!_

That took him off guard. Jetfire didn't really know _what_ he was going to do. He hadn't wanted to go at first, so he hadn't really thought this far. He wasn't sure if he _did_ or _didn't_ want to be in a circus. He always did act like a performer for one. Though he wasn't sure if using his flight boosters could be used for the circus or if it was cheating.

_Anyways, vat vas flier like?_

Jetfire stopped himself. He'd think about this later, right now he had to talk to his brother! Complying, he tried to find words to describe him.

_Strange. Very strange._

_How so?_

_He vas seeming to have three __people living inside of his head, and had three faces to be going with the people__. He vas almost done vith training, too._

_Am hoping that is not being sign of vat fliers are like after training._

Jetfire laughed. _I think that vas just vay he vas._

_Vat did he say? Vas he nice to you?_

_Depended on face he was wearing. Sometimes he yelled at me to leave him alone, sometimes he gave me advice on settling in on new planet, and other he just vanted to be singing about how much he liked something called 'tuna'._

_Vat kind of skill could somebot like that be having!?_

_Fortunetelling, apparently. He even told my fortune for me._

_Vat vas it?_

_He vas giving me three, actually. One vas that I vould be seeing many legs, another vas that I vould be losing something important, but gaining something that vill be meaning more to me than ever._

_Vat about the third one?_

_The third one said that I vould be seeing double._

_…isn't that being being rather strange?_

_Probably. But I am sure he is knowing more about fortunetelling that us._

_You got me there._

Jetfire yawned, reminded of something that had troubled him earlier when he had been talking with the flier. Something he had noticed within himself after seeing how confident the `con had been.

_Jetstorm?_

_Yah?_

_Vat are you supposing my skill is being?_

_Your flames, of course._

_But that is something that `bots other than fliers can be doing. _

_Is that not vat whole trip is being about? You learning to be controlling your flames?_

_But how is you controlling flames? All I can be doing is summoning them and aiming them. I cannot being in control of them._

_That is vy you is on trip._

He considered this. He had been doubtful of his abilities ever since he discovered them. Ever since he nearly burned Red Alert to death. He hadn't summoned a flame since; worried that he might hurt someone else. He wasn't sure if he could learn to command them after spending so many stellar cycles without summoning them. But if Jetstorm thought he could do it, then he was going to be able to do it. He was going to learn to control his flames and become the best at it that he could be.

_Thank you brother._

_Is being nothing. _Jetstorm paused._ You are sounding tired._

Jetfire unwillingly yawned, suddenly aware of how heavy his viz scanners felt. _I am being bit tired…_

_Then you should be taking stasis nap._

_But I vant to be talking to you more!_

_Ve can talk more tomorrow. Besides, you are starting to make me sleepy._

Jetfire wasn't able to protest. Deep down, he wanted to recharge too.

_Okay the, good night, Jetstorm._

_Good night, Jetfire._

He leaned back further so that he was lying on the floor. Then he curled in, trying to make it as comfortable as possible. It was not like his recharger at home. It was cold and a bit wet. But it would have to do. Maybe he should take it a bit slower. Try to find something else he was good at, in case he could never command his fire. Maybe he could just try to be the best at flying first, which he realized he wasn't the best at. Though that was probably something to be expected, what with being raised by drivers.

He remembered the early years he had experienced with Perceptor still having his emotions and always making strange faces. He had remembered times when he couldn't sleep so he would play with a few fancy-looking things and then make a rainbow cloud and Wheeljack would come in and tell him what it was because he didn't know what a rainbow was, and then he would see a black screen in front of his optics and he would cry and see a small smile on a blue face and then he would remember landing on top of his brother's shoulders for an energon cube and that's when he fell asleep.

* * *

This wasn't exactly his best day.

Oh sure, it had started off well enough. He had managed to get out of the cargo ship before anybot came in, and flew onto a strange, purple-ish looking planet. He had always liked the ones that were the prettier colors. At first he thought it might have been uninhabited, but he was later disproven.

It was full of drivers.

That had initially taken him off-guard, so he had slowed down quite a bit to try to get a good look at the place. It wasn't too heavily populated, so he wasn't completely overwhelmed from all the `bots. They seemed relatively friendly as well, though some looked at him strangely every time he introduced himself to tell, telling him about his goals in controlling his fire and being a good flier. Like he was an oddity, or something. He didn't take it personally; fliers weren't super common. But the thing that really drew him to the planet was the clock tower in the middle of the city. There was a similar one back near his hometown, and it made it feel more familiar to him.

This seemed like a good enough place to stay. Everything was going well. He had finally found a place to settle down. It felt like nothing could go wrong for him.

Until he got in trouble with the local authorities. He still remembered the fear when as the autotrooper bore down on him, threatening to tell his family after arresting him. To tell Wheeljack and Perceptor about his mistake. He couldn't let them know he already messed up. So he did the only thing he could do at a time like that: as soon as the autotrooper looked the other way, he ran, much faster than he ever had before. After a few cycles he finally lost him, though it exhausted him.

He went to the local housing building soon after, desperate to find a place to stay. He barely had enough credits to afford the cheapest dorm, but it was the only thing he could find. The manager was about to rent it to him too, until he was asked for identification. Identification? Who carries around identification? Unable to think of anything else, he found himself running again, though this time from nothing in particular.

So now he was leaning over a ledge somewhere, looking down from his elevated position. All around, mechs and femmes alike scurrying through each other, doing whatever they were supposed to be doing for the solar cycle. Jobs, probably. He needed to get a job, but that was beside the point now. Around him there were other `bots going in and out of a library to his left. He had never been in a library before. In fact, he didn't even really knew what a library was. There was nothing like that back at home. But right now he was too busy wallowing in his own confusion and self-pity to care.

_Jetstorm? You there?_

_Yes. Are you okay?_

_No. _He gulped._ I vas almost being arrested._

_ARRESTED?_

_It vas not being my fault! I vas just flying over new city I vas finding earlier and then somebot vas staring at me and vas almost getting into accident and they vere blaming me! I vas not doing anything!_

_Is you telling the truth?_

_Yes!_

_No you is not._

Jetfire groaned. He couldn't keep a secret from his own twin. He should know that well enough by now. Nothing he ever did get past Jetstorm, no matter how hard he tried. Just like the time when he had eaten both of the energon drops that Wheeljack had bought for them when he had gone to Crystal City. Jetstorm had ratted on him almost instantly after it had landed in his fuel tank. Sighing, he told the truth this time.

_I vas flying too low and vas almost hitting a driver, and vas almost causing accident._

_Vell, you should go and apologize!_

_But they vill just be arresting me! I does not want to be going to stockade!!_

_They is not going to be taking you to stockade! You vere only causing traffic issues, not murder or stealing. _

_But everything is being so much different here! There is being organic plants and a place called a 'library' and nobot has been seeing flier here in very long time!_

_Vhere exactly are you, anyvay?_

_Is called Omnicron. I is thinking it is inside Archa System._

"Ma'am!!"

Jetfire's conversation was cut off by a short femme next to him. She had blue armor plating and horns on her head, and really large optics. Leaning against the same wall he was over the cliff, she had a datapad novel in her servo, and she was waving it all above her head like a mad `bot. She seemed to be yelling out at somebot, apparently wanting to give them device that she was wielding.

"Ma'am! You forgot your datapad!! Ma'am!!" She yelled out as loud as she could. It wasn't very loud, it seemed, since nobot in the direction she was yelling seemed to take notice of her frantic cries. She immediately grew sad, and stood back onto the ground. She looked at the datapad in her hand, and frowned. "Fooey. And it's such a good story, too…"

Jetfire wasn't very glad about just standing and watching this. She didn't really seem all that happy, holding herself down with a sense of disappointment and sadness. She almost looked as though she was about to cry. He hated seeing `bots cry. Especially femmes.

"Please to be excusing me…" The femme shot her head up to look at him, and he immediately felt more sympathy for her. She seemed so nice, her optics glistening kindly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want something from the library?"

"No. But I could be taking that to her." He said, pointing to the datapad still in her servo. The femme immediately brightened up, a stark contrast from how she was earlier. She seemed to be overflowing with excitement and happiness.

"Really!? Oh, thank you! This really is a wonderful story and I would hate for her not to be able to read it! I've read it three times myself! It's called 'The Hunger Games'. It's from Earth. Y'know, the organic planet?"

"Uh…no…?" He admitted.

She didn't seem to hear, handing the datapad over. "Here! It's the orange femme with the wheels sticking out of her back. You can't miss her. The receipt on it says that her name is Flareup. Hurry up now, you can't keep her from such a wonderful story!" She said, immediately pushing him towards a slope that led down to the level the femme must have been.

Jetfire smiled, a bit flustered by her insistence and sudden mood change. He stood up on the wall and stuffed the datapad novel safely into his compartment inside his hip-guard. He jumped and transformed, flying towards the first orange thing that caught his optics. He thought he heard a bit of a gasp from the femme as he flew off. They _really_ hadn't seen fliers in a long time, had they? To his relief, the first orange thing he saw was indeed the femme he was looking for. It would have been embarrassing if he had been chasing after an exotic flower or something. He had been seeing a lot of those lately.

Sure enough, the femme did indeed have strange wheels coming out of her back, though from her stature she didn't seem to be weighed down by it at all. She held herself with a nice, upright sense of power lacking in the blue femme. Like she was more confident in herself. Or in what she could do. Almost like the opposite of himself.

"Flareup!" He called out to her, still in his vehicle mode. She stopped, turning around to look at him, before he finally transformed back into his robot mode and landed safely in front of her. He took the datapad out of his compartment, and turned his head up to look at her.

Time stopped.

All of a sudden, he couldn't speak properly. He could feel his vocal processor going on about something, but he couldn't pay attention to it. All he could do was try to remember what he was trying to do. It seemed to take all of his concentration just to say a sentence. Why was it suddenly so hard to speak? She was just a femme. Nothing to be afraid of. Nobot to be nervous around.

"What the slag d'ya want, you freaky flying thing!?" She scowled. "What, were you hired by Warpath or something? Well, you can tell him that he'll get his credits, soon. Slaggit, just leave me alone!"

Words continued to fail him. He held the datapad shakily in front of him. "I…you…uh…"

"What? 'I', what!? C'mon, glitchhead, SPEAK FOR SPARK'S SAKE!" She cried. "I don't have the time to listen to your slag. I've got things to do, y'know!? Why are you being so slaggin' fidgety? Are you nervous or some- OH MY SLAG, YOUR HEAD IS ON FIRE!"

She pointed her arm straight at him, for reasons unknown to himself. Some of the other onlookers that took note of her began to yell, running away. Jetfire was caught off guard by the ending of her sentence, before he looked up to his forehead. He screamed and started spouting out more incomprehensible blabber. Desperate and scared out of his mind, he tried to pound on his head, only giving him a processorache.

His head was on fire.

HIS HEAD WAS ON _FIRE!!_

Suddenly a large blast of some sort of liquid shot him in the faceplate, putting out the flames. He soon realized that it was water, and started shivering. He hated water. He hated how overly slick and wet and drippy his armor and joints got, and the threat of rusting if he came into contact with certain liquids. He also hated how cold he felt after getting sprayed with it. He looked in front of him to find that Flareup, the same femme who had yelled at him earlier, had somehow managed to tap into a water hydrant and splash him with water. She looked very frightened and slightly annoyed, but she was still there. She had thought enough of the situation to help him.

He was thankful beyond belief. But maybe he shouldn't be. It was just water. Just a fire. Nothing too serious, really. Nothing that could really be called deadly, especially for him. The most that it was was a humiliation, since he was supposed to be working on _controlling _his flames, not making it shoot off on emotional impulses. But still, he was grateful. Very grateful. In Debt. Eternally in debt. But he didn't know how he could ever repay her for saving his life, however small it may have seemed.

He decided to start by giving her datapad back.

* * *

Jetfire leaned right, headed for the planet below him. He was low on energon and knew it was wise not to try and refuel while flying. So many things could go wrong in a situation like that. So, instead, he was going to take a detour on this planet. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long. He was supposed to deliver this package by the end of the solar cycle.

So many things had happened since he had first arrived on Omnicron. After his little flame incident with Flareup, he had returned to the library femme, who was absolutely astounded by his flying capacity. She wouldn't stop going on about how 'fascinating' and 'amazing' he was. He hadn't really been in the mood for all that unnecessary praise. His spark wasn't up for it. Flareup had screamed at him for being an accident waiting to happen, taken the datapad forcefully, and told him she never wanted to see him again. So far she had kept to her word; if he ever saw her in the streets, she would march away from him, not even letting him try to say anything.

Even with all that, he had still listened to the femme's gushing talk. It was a good thing too, or he would never have this job.

Her name was Glyph, and she was the head librarian. She was a very expressive femme, as he quickly found out, and very smart. She had come up with the idea of a delivery service almost instantly after he had explained his lack of credits.

"_So many `bots are so lazy around here, and taking a ship off-planet to give somebot something can be really expensive. But _you_ could deliver it easily! And since you would be cheaper, business would boom! Believe me, I know. I've read all about this."_

She had offered to not only let the library be his office of sorts, but also to let him stay in the spare room as long as he helped around the library every now and then. He couldn't believe how generous she was. Everybot else in the city had been a little stand-offish (If Flareup wasn't at all an indication of the rest of them), but Glyph actually showed him real kindness. He was happy to help her out, and happy to finally have a job and a place to stay.

Working at the library was actually a lot of fun. Glyph wasn't able to reach all of the taller shelves, so he would fly up with his boosters and rearrange the datapads accordingly. It helped him practice his own flying too. Sometimes, though, he had to wash the floors or something like that. He wasn't too fond of doing tasks like that that involved water, but he still did it with a grin on his faceplate. This femme had given him everything he needed. This was the least he could do to repay her.

Thinking about repaying made Flareup come up in his processor. He winced. Why did she have to act like that? All he had been trying to do was return the datapad, and maybe he got a little flustered after seeing her, but really he was just trying to be nice. He wasn't sure why he was even thinking about her right now. She was just a femme. But He had never seen a femme like her before. Strong. Assertive. Then another word crawled into his thoughts.

Beautiful.

If only he had had a different first impression. Maybe he could have acted more like Jetstorm instead of his own weak, doubtful self. Maybe then he could've got to know her better…

Anyways, it took a few solar cycles, but he finally got his first customer. It –well, 'she'- was something he had never seen before. Glyph called it a techno-organic. Apparently, it was like a femme and a human girl combined. At first he had been a little sickened, but he quickly got over it. If they were able to accept him as a flier, he should be able to accept her as a techno-organic.

Sari, the customer, wanted to deliver a holo-scan to her friend Bumblebee, who was off-planet. And she was willing to pay an outrageous amount of credits for it. Jetfire had refused to accept that much, but was forced to in the end. She was quite insistent that this was very important to her, and that she wanted to ensure he would focus on making a safe delivery. He assured her he would do nothing but that.

To make sure this was safe, though, he had to make this stop. Flying on low fuel would only test his luck, which so far wasn't the best thing in the universe.

The surface was clearly visible now, rocky with some strange organic plants. Great. He wasn't sure whether he liked organic things much. There was such an odd mix of it on Omnicron that it was impossible to avoid it from a day-to-day basis. Some of it was pretty, he would admit, but other times it was just gross. This, to his relief, looked rather pretty at the moment.

He prepared to land, transforming to robot mode when he was almost touching the ground. To his surprise, he collided with some sticky substance which stuck to his armor. This destroyed his balance. He hit the ground, rolling about a mechanometer away from where he had intended to land. He quickly got to his stabilizing servos, rubbing wildly about his chassis, trying to get the sticky stuff off. What was this!? He started fidgeting around wildly, though the more he tried to get it off, the more it seemed to stick to him. It refused to come off. This was really starting to get him angry. He rarely ever got angry.

Unintentionally, a blast of fire flew out of his servo. For a moment, he thought he was going up in flames. He squeaked a bit, but it soon stopped. The gooey string that was on him was now considerably less sticky black goo He frowned. Yes, now the stuff was off of him, but the means of removing it only reminded him of his lack of control. And now he smelled like burning rubber. He knew he was just getting started in the area of controlling his flames, but this just wasn't the kind of thing he wanted at the moment. He had to be good at his job, and this really wasn't helping anything.

Deciding to forget that ever happened, he opened the compartment in his hip-guard, retrieving both the package and a single energon cube. He walked over to a rock large enough to sit on and reclined against it. Nibbling on the edge of the cube, he stared at the package intently. The holo-scan was wrapped in a fine layer of pinkish wood or something that was called 'paper'. He was told that it was so delicate so that it could be easily ripped apart. But this paper was very intricate and flowery, with wonderfully crafted details painted onto the surface.

Why would anybot want to rip something so pretty?

After he finished the cube off, he caught sight of something in the shadows of a cave a few mechanometers to the side of him. What was that? He turned that way, intrigued as to what it could be. It was like a bright glint of red in the darkness. Maybe it was some sort of jewel or something. He peered closer.

Eyes. They looked like eyes. And not just a pair of them. A whole mess of them, all seeming to belong to the same creature.

He jumped back just in time. Several giant purple legs appeared out of nowhere, reaching for him. They were shaped like slender sticks, jabbing around in a way that he was certain was chaotic and sporadic. And yet they were definitely in moving in a way that made him certain whatever it was had complete control. Attached to the top of the legs was what appeared to be a head, where all those eyes had been. Then there were strange, pointed things that snapped together.

It was like something out of a horror video.

The beast took another swipe at him, hissing monstrously at him. He couldn't even muster up the energy to scream, it was too frightening. What did it want?! He was just a 'bot! Metal! He couldn't be eaten by any organic monster he would ever stumble upon in his entire life! But then again, this thing was HUGE! Bigger than he was! If it couldn't eat him, then it was sure to at least do major damage to his circuitry.

Before it could attack again, he transformed into a jet, dashing off into the sky. He kept on flying until he was cycles away from the planet. His spark-rate had skyrocketed, and it took him awhile to calm down. He had no idea what it was; only that it was some sort of monster. Then he did a double-take. He remembered seeing another organic creature, one that had a strong body and sharp, pointed rocks on its head. And it was the gentlest thing he could have ever met in the universe. Was that monster really trying to eat him, or was it just approaching him to get a better look at him, learn what he was?

There was only one `bot he could ask at a time like this.

_Jetstorm?_

_Jetfire? Is you being okay? You is sounding very tired._

_Well, I vas just being chased down by a GIANT MONSTER!!_

_A vat!?_

_Yes! It vas being big and black and vas having the many eyes vith legs and legs and it vas really really REALLY big and I vas thinking that I vould be dying!!_

_Hold on! Vhere are you?_

_Archa System… I is thinking I is above the Archa Seven planet. Vy?_

There was a pause.

_Jetstorm!?_ Oh no. What was happening?! What… What had the fortune-bot said? _"You'll lose something important in your life…" _Oh no. Did… Did that mean that…? He… Jetstorm…!?

_JETSTORM!!! _He thought again, this time more forcefully. Louder. He had to hear him! He hoped to the Allspark that Jetstorm could hear him and feel him and know that he was there and alive and that he needed him so much right now! He couldn't be gone! Their bond couldn't be broken! It just couldn't!!

_Jetfire! Is okay! Vy is you being so scared?_

_JETSTORM! Oh, I is so badly very vishing I could be flying over to vhere you is being and hug you!! Please not to be scaring me like that! Vat vere you doing?_

_Calm down! Calm down! Is okay. I vas just asking Perceptor about this. I'm sorry. I should have been telling you._

Jetfire immediately started to kick himself. He was so embarrassed by his actions. One second of not being able to talk to Jetstorm and he had fallen apart. He was so ashamed of himself that he wanted to cry. But he couldn't cry. Not now.

… _Perceptor vas saying that there is being thing that is called the 'spiders' on Archa Seven. He vas also saying that the spiders in Archa System planets is being abnormally large._

_So… so spiders on Archa Seven is being larger than other of the spiders?_

_Yes._

Jetfire blinked, suddenly realizing that he felt a bit lighter. He transformed into robot mid-air, using his boosters to keep from falling. Frantically, he reached into his hip-guard. He froze when he found nothing in it. No. This wasn't happening.

He had dropped the package back on the planet!

_Have to be going, Jetstorm. Giant emergency!_

_Uh…okay then, be talking to you later…_

Jetfire regretted cutting off the discussion so abruptly, but this was so important and he couldn't be distracted. Reverting to vehicle mode, he plunged back down towards the planet he had so desperately escaped from. He did not all want to go back to that place. Back to that spider. But he couldn't let Sari down. He had told her he would make the delivery. And if he screwed up his first job, how would he get anybot else to hire him? All he had to do was get the package and get out. That was easy enough.

As he landed back on the surface, he found that he was not in the same spot he was before. In fact, nothing about this looked even slightly familiar. Great. He must have veered off-course in the high atmosphere he flew down from. Now he was lost.

Slag.

He walked around a bit, hoping to find some landmark to lead him back to the rock and the cave where he had been. There were mountains, minor canyons, more weird flowers. He sat down and tried to analyze the flowers. They were all red and had a square yellow patch inside of it. There were also some purple and pink ones with similar yellow centers. Everything looked exactly the same in a strange foreign way. Worse, all of the flowers together matched the pattern on the box. This was impossible! He would never find the package now! His business would be destroyed before it even began.

The sound of lumbering footsteps ahead of him caused him to look up. He couldn't see anything moving. No spiders, at least. But the sound continued to reverberate, seeming to echo from somewhere beyond the small mountain in front of him. Maybe that's where he had been. That meant he was hearing the spider. Then he stopped. When the spider had attacked him, it had made almost no sound with its legs. The only sound came from its mouth. That meant that someone else was over there.

Maybe he could help him find the package!

He flew up over the mountain, and was half-surprised to see a small building on the other side. If you could really call it a building. It looked rather small and poorly put together. And it wasn't made out of metal like any of the buildings he had ever seen. Was that wood? Slag, the organic things never seemed to leave him alone!

Jetfire hesitantly landed next to the hut, staring at it curiously. Maybe this had proven his hypothesis. A house usually suggested some sort of inhabitant. He wanted to stop right then and there, and imagined himself running through the doorway into Perceptor's room and telling him about how his first hypothesis had been correct. He smiled at the small pat on the head he would get from him, the only affectionate gesture Perceptor could still manage, and then stopped.

He wasn't at home; he was on Archa Seven, an organic planet full of spiders. And he was in front of an old… hut. Yeah, that felt like a better term. The doorway was absolutely huge though. Whoever lived in this hut was big. Really big. What if he was mean? What if he got angry at him for disturbing his peaceful planet? Though it didn't really seem all that peaceful with the giant spiders. He still couldn't tell if they were trying to eat him or just trying to say hi. He had second thoughts about meeting whoever lived here.

"Hey! Whaddaya think your doin'!?"

Too late

Jetfire whirled around and found himself face-to-face with a large green mech. He had really big kibble on his back, and his chinplate was fixed in an odd smile that looked misplaced compared to his frowning viz scanners. His servos ended in three large, menacing claw-like appendages. All in all, not the kind of `bot you want to get in a fight with. Especially if you were smaller than him; which, unfortunately, he was.

"Uh…please to be accepting apologies…"

"How'dya even get here? I didn't see any transport ships…"

"Vell I vas flying here myself and…" He looked around everywhere except at the `bot's faceplate, not wanting to incite his anger by giving him a bad look. There was something in his right servo. Something that looked very familiar. And very pink. "…the package!"

"Hm? Oh, y'mean this?" The mech lifted the package up, "What, is it yours or something?"

"Yes! Yes it is being mine! I dropped it back vhere the evil spider-creature vas." Jetfire insisted.

"Hey! They're not evil! They're some of the nicest, most loyal organic creatures I've ever met! Well, except for maybe a dog. Those are really loyal."

"Please to be accepting apology… I is not knowing vat this… 'Dug' is being."

"Dog. They're kinda small though. The biggest one I've seen is half the size of a human."

"That is being very nice. Can I be having my package back now, please, sir?"

"Huh? Oh! Right, here ya go, little buddy!" He passed the package back to him, amazingly untouched and completely intact inside his large servos. He took it gratefully from his claws. "Found it lyin' around that cave over there. Archibald gave it to me."

"Who?"

"ARCHIBALD!" He called over to his left. The same giant spider he had seen earlier jumped out of nowhere and landed right in front of him. He squeaked and froze, trying his best not to move. Up close, the spider was still very scary-looking, especially now that he could clearly see that it had a larger portion of its body right behind it, sticking out like an overfilled energon cube in a pile of slag.

"This is Archibald, little buddy." The green `bot said again. "He's probably the nicest one of the spiders I've ever met." Jetfire didn't know how to respond. The very same monster that had tried to kill him was the nicest spider on the planet? He hoped he never had to meet another of his kind, if they were worse than he was. "Hey, did you say you _flew_ over here?"

"Oh… yes. Yes I vas. I vas being taking package to `bot on close-by planet and I vas being tired, so I vas stopping here for stop rest." He explained.

"Wow… a flier! I've never met a flier before! Could'ja show me how you fly without your alt-mode?"

"Oh… vell, okay. It is being very easy." He said, stuffing the package into his compartment under his hip-guard to make sure he wouldn't drop it again. He activated his boosters on his ankles, shooting himself up into the air in a big gusto. He almost went up too high, but he managed to control himself a bit better. He tried his best to make himself stay in the air as still as he could. He didn't want to look like a fool in front of the new green `bot, especially after he had just said that it was easy to fly.

"Wait! Wait! Hold it right there!" He held his servos, telling him not to move. Then he motioned for Archibald, the spider, to go underneath him and stand still. He ran into the hut, grabbed some weird looking supplies and set them up in front of Jetfire. "This is too perfect!"

"Vat are you doing?" Jetfire asked.

"Painting you. Just relax and stay as still as possible…" He mused, setting up a large white rectangle which almost blocked Jetfire's view of him, "The name's Bulkhead, by the way, Mr. Flier."

"Jetfire. Please be calling me Jetfire." Jetfire said hurriedly, "But, Bulkhead, sir, I really am needing to take the package and go deliver it off-planet. Perhaps we can be doing this later?"

"Just give me a nanoclick. All I need it to do your base. The rest I can do without you being here… Archibald's got a pretty good memory, he can help me get the details right." He informed, flicking a small stick-looking object across the rectangle.

It took a few cycles, and Jetfire tried his best to stay still and seem relaxed. He had never been painted before. What did that mean, anyways? What was 'paint'? The fact that these `bots he met seemed to know so many organic topics astounded him. Perceptor and Wheeljack never taught them anything like this. Just science about `bots. They had heard of colonies on organic planets and systems, the most frequented tourism site being Nebulos, but he had never been there. Maybe if he stuck around long enough, then he'd understand as many organic customs as the others.

"There. Thanks for doing that for me. I just got a flash of inspiration seeing you, and all." Bulkhead blushed, rubbing the back of his head.

Jetfire nodded, and removed the package he had to make sure it was okay. Then he noticed a small rip on one side, probably from his scurry with the spider, revealing the holo-scan. It was of Sari and a yellow 'bot with a common protoform mold type laughing in front of a small block-thing on wheels, with the words 'hot dog stand' on a sign above it. Jetfire felt happy seeing it, reminded of himself and Jetstorm. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't deliver it like this.

"The paper is being ripped…" He said, showing it to Bulkhead.

"Really? Lemme see…" Bulkhead took a good long look at the package, and then told him to wait. Jetfire landed on the ground, while Bulkhead scurried and rummaged through his things. Next to him, Archibald stood quietly, his legs squatting down in apparent relaxation. He took a glance at him, and then turned away. He hoped Bulkhead would hurry up. All of these spiders made him highly uncomfortable.

"Got it!" Bulkhead ran back to him, shaking the ground slightly, and passed him a small… circle. He wasn't entirely sure what good a circle would do him, but it seemed to be peeling off on one side and was completely clear. He had never seen anything like it before.

"Vat is that being?"

"It's called 'tape'. You put it on top of your tears or rips and it fixes them."

"How?"

"Uh… here, lemme see that." Jetfire gave him the package, hoping he could fix the rip. Bulkhead had initially started intently on fixing the package, but then he stopped. He had seen the holo-scan. He winced, humiliated that a by-stander saw someone's private holo-scan. He had no right to look at it. He decided to voice his concerns.

"That is being someone's mail. You should not be looking at it. You is not having right to."

"I do if it's got my best friends in it." Jetfire was shocked. Bulkhead knew those two? "The yellow one's Bumblebee. He lives in the asteroid belt not too far from here. You can tell it's his because he doesn't have any neighbors. They always complain about his music being too loud."

"I think I vas hearing music once before…"

"Eh. Not too fond o' music…" Their conversation trailed off, going into oblivion. Then Bulkhead had finally finished 'taping' the package back to one piece. He passed it back to Jetfire.

"Thanking you! I is hoping you vill be meeting your friends again someday."

"Ah, don't mention it. Just do me one little favor, okay?

"A favor? Vat?"

"Come by and see me when this picture is done." He said with a smile. "It's going to be great."

* * *

Jetfire couldn't tell if his luck got better or not.

So far it seemed as though it was getting better. After his first delivery, he had managed to get bigger business. Once `bots knew that he could be trusted, he had gotten more and more customers for his delivery service. Friends told friends, news got around. Glyph even passed out fliers to `bots who checked out datapads at the library. Some of his assignments took him pretty far, so he had decided to make a limit to how far he could go to deliver their packages. The farthest ones often were charged more as well, but they all seemed willing to do it. They understood a bit more about economics than he did.

Jetfire shook his head. He needed to focus. He had gotten a new delivery to make! And if he didn't focus, then he'd probably hit an asteroid or something. That wouldn't be good at all. He had never actually collided with anything while flying before, but Jetstorm had. Even though he hadn't been hurt himself, he had felt all the pain his twin had endured through. It had taken almost a deca-cycle for Perceptor to fix him up. Jetfire didn't have the time to be injured with all his business, nor did he want to feel that kind of pain again.

He had been given instructions to get to the biggest asteroid he found, and once he was there he'd get his package. He had initially been confused by the secrecy, but it must have very special and important to garner such control. The hardest part so far was locating it. Asteroids already reached pretty large sizes. How would he know which one he was looking for?

Then he found it. Boy, it _was_ big! No wonder they had only needed to give him such vague instructions. He almost thought that it could be considered a dwarf planet or something. He had heard of one uninhabited dwarf planet called Pluto that many considered to be very significant. It was fairly difficult to get to it without a space bridge, so barely anybot would bother to go there. It had even become a saying on Cybertron. 'If anyone asks, I'm on Pluto.' He chuckled to himself, amused by the saying since the first time he heard it.

He transformed into robot mode and landed on the asteroid. He looked up at the single building on it; it seemed quite large, and had a sense of alien majesty to it. He kind of liked it. Gave it a bit of an 'old' feel, and that told him to give it a bit of respect. He thought that fit his customer well; he had heard that she wasn't exactly the youngest thing in the Archa System.

There were a few steps and a platform with many accents and decoration on it before the door. He came up and knocked on it to let them know he was there. He waited for a little bit, and tried not to break any of the decorations around the platform. It all seemed very fragile. He suddenly became afraid that his fire would suddenly turn on. All these beautiful decorations would be destroyed. He focused on keeping himself calm, making sure he had a firm grip on his flames. Inside the house he could hear somebot walking up. He straightened himself, hoping to give a good first impression.

He didn't expect the door to be open by a spider.

Oh sure, he had gotten used to the spiders... mostly. He had stopped by frequently to see Bulkhead and ask if his painting was finished, but he never landed in the same place twice. He always found different spiders everywhere, and never managed to get back to Bulkhead's hut (He knew that as soon as he found the artist's home, he would save the coordinates so that he wouldn't have to go on a wild cybergoose chase again). None of the creatures ever seemed intended to hurt him, much like Archibald, though some did look at him with what he thought was hunger in their eyes. Though this didn't seem like one of the spiders from Archa Seven, even though it shared their color scheme. This one seemed… robotic?

"…What are you staring at?"

Jetfire gulped. Was he staring? He was just flooded with so many thoughts at seeing the techno-organic, who he had now realized was female. Nervous, he tapped his fingers together. Did she think he was staring at her because he thought she was ugly? He hoped not. She wasn't ugly at all. She had a slim chassis, perfectly built. She had organic spider parts, which had been what he had first noticed about her, but they actually complimented her instead of grossing him out like most organic things did. He couldn't see her faceplate though, as it was covered by a helmet of sorts. Was she trying to hide something?

"P-Please to be accepting apology, miss…"

"Blackarachnia."

"…Excuse me?"

"Blackarachnia. That's my name." She informed.

"Oh…"

She crossed her servos expectantly. "… Well?"

"Vell vat?

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Jetfire gulped. He was being so rude today! First the staring and now this! He really had to work on his actions around femmes. He had to find away to stop being so tense.

"J-Jetfire. Please to be accepting apology, miss. I… I is being terrible when I is talking to femmes."

She laughed. Jetfire stared at her, this time fully intending to give her a strange look. Why was she laughing? He had just been a nervous wreck around her, and she was laughing? That made him feel terrible. But at the same time, he felt like he could relax. This really wasn't too much to be afraid of, really. Even with the spider-parts she was still just a femme. Just like every other Cybertronian; a robot that transformed into something different. And the laughter seemed to show that she accepted him, was comfortable enough around him.

"You're a spineless jellyfish aren't you?" She asked rhetorically.

"Excuse me? Vat is… Fellyjish?" She laughed again, this time a bit quieter. She beckoned him inside, and told him to follow her. He did so, and the door behind him slid closed.

The hallway he was walking through was quaint, and rather wide. On one side were nothing but windows and windows, showing the universe outside. There was a beautiful purple nebula, with a wonderfully intricate design plotted everywhere he could see. It was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen and slowed down quite a bit to get a long look at it. Back at home there wasn't this great of a view.

"Hurry it up; ya don't wanna keep Arcee waiting, do you?" He jerked forward starkly at Blackarachnia's voice, and ran to catch up with her.

She slid open another door, and this time they walked through a circular room filled with exotic plants, with life-sized holo-scans littered every which way. Several of them were of an old red-and-white medic with a broken chevron. He seemed nice enough; he was smiling in most of the holo-scans. Others were of a different mech, this time with blue added onto a red-and-white color scheme. The most memorable one he saw was of him holding a large axe on his shoulder and looking off into the distance. He looked like some kind of superhero.

"Here ya go; Arcee's through this door." Jetfire's thoughts were jolted back to his situation at hand. He had a delivery to make! And nothing was going to get delivered with him gawking at holo-scans all solar cycle! He really had to stop getting distracted all the time. He took in some oxygen like he had seen some organics do, and walked into the room.

The room seemed rather different than the others, with a large table in the middle of it, and several cupboards and furnaces on the walls. He found an elderly, pink femme with large kibble on her back twiddling with a rather new, smaller design of a furnace that didn't seem to be working very well at all. On the table nearest to her was a box of raw energon in strange shapes, which he couldn't define from the door.

He walked closer to the femme and stopped. She didn't seem to notice him, trying to get the small furnace to work. He could see the shapes of the energon differently now; some were spiders, some were flowers, and still others were creatures he didn't recognize. He wondered if they were supposed to be energon drops. Maybe he should ask. There was no harm in that, right?

"Excuse me, Arcee?" The elderly femme, Arcee, jumped, and turned around to look at him. She seemed rather sweet, like she couldn't hurt a fly. There was also an aura of compassion that surrounded her, which almost made her seem to glow and made him feel absolutely at ease being around her, even though she was a femme. She gave him a wry smile, and began to speak.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." She said in a gentle voice. "You must be the delivery boy, right?"

"Yes ma'am. You are vanting delivery, are you not?" He asked.

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Vell, is it being ready for me to take?

"No, it's not, I'm afraid. See, I was going to give these energon drops to Ratchet, but he said he couldn't get any closer than Iacon without a transport ship. So I thought about sending them with you there, but now the furnace won't work. It's a real shame…seems like you came here for no reason at all." She said, drifting off at the end of the sentence.

Jetfire started getting sad; Arcee seemed very nice. He didn't want anyone to be sad. But raw energon was highly unstable if it wasn't kept in a warm place or pre-heated. They had learned that shortly after Wheeljack had almost destroyed the laboratory because of that careless mistake. And if the furnace didn't work, then poor Ratchet (whoever he was) would never get his energon drops. Arcee was right, it really was a shame, and not only because he came here for nothing. All the time and effort she had put into planning this was now wasted.

Then he got an idea.

"Miss! I could be helping you vith the energon drops!" He offered.

"Oh, really? But how?" Arcee asked.

Jetfire smiled wide, and snapped his fingers. A concentrated flame burst out from nowhere above his palm, nice and small. This was the only controlled flame he could manage, what with his delivery service taking up most of his time. All of the rest of them became too large too fast, and he often dropped them, causing something to go up is smoke. Then he would have to apologize and pay for the damages, which was slowly eating away at his credits. This would be good practice, he thought, for controlling his flames. If he could heat up the energon drops without burning them, then he'd be one step closer to directing his special power.

It was going to take a while, that was for sure. Fifty cycles in and the energon drops still weren't done. Though he didn't mind too much. It wasn't like he needed to be anywhere anyways. He had no other deliveries to make, Glyph didn't require his help at the library, and he had no friends to hang out with. It was much more fun here, anyways. He had managed some time to get to know the two femmes that lived on this asteroid. And they had gotten to learn more about him as well.

He told them about Cybertron, his home. He told them about Wheeljack and how he always put random items into cannons to blast at random object for little to no reason, or would always make things accidentally blow up in his face. He told them about Perceptor and how he used to be a very fidgety and nervous person, always reclining himself to staying up all night to finish whatever project he had started. And he told them about Jetstorm. How he always knew what to do in a situation, how he had the calmest head no matter how hard things got. How he'd never trade him for anybot else in the universe, and how he always felt much safer and confident with him around.

Then he told them about Red Alert.

"Red Alert is probably being first femme I vas ever meeting. She is medic for space bridge team, but sometimes she is coming to Cybertron to be doing experiments vith Perceptor and Wheeljack sir. She is always yelling at me and Jetstorm for running around lab for very little reason, but ve is both knowing that she is caring about everybot very much, even though she can be being tough on us."

"She sounds like the kind of femme I'd like to meet." Blackarachnia clued in. Jetfire wasn't so sure about that. Of course, Red Alert never really did very much to physically hurt him, but he knew that she wasn't too far from doing so if she was tempted. On many occasions she had raised a fist in anger, but quickly lowered it when she realized what she was about to do. Usually it ended up being just a small slap on the head, which only stung slightly, but still made him and his brother feel awful for letting her down, even though they were never sure what they did wrong. She seemed to think that their idea of 'fun' was a hazard to their health.

"Is she in love?" Arcee asked softly.

"Vat??" Jetfire hadn't expected a question like that to come up at all. How would he know if Red Alert was in love with somebot? He barely even knew how to tell how anybot was in love, for that matter. Even if he did, he had never met anybot from her space bridge team, and what he heard from her about them, it wasn't really the team he'd want to meet. The leader had no idea what was going on most of the time, there was a pyromaniac working there (which he was ashamed of), and an old, grumpy miner that didn't really sound very nice at all. He didn't know where she was stationed, but he could tell that it wasn't exactly the friendliest place in the universe.

"Arcee, you hopeless romantic, not _every_ femme has to have optics open for a sparkmate!" Blackarachnia reminded, a bit forcefully as if her words held a double meaning directed at herself.

"Oh, come on, Blackarachnia, you know as well as I do that everybot fancies at least _one_ other `bot at some point in their lifecycle." Arcee said rather arrogantly. "Even you."

Blackarachnia cocked an optic. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Don't be silly, Blackarachnia, we are all very much aware that you are in love with…"

"Don't you dare start with that nonsense!"

They both got into a bit of an argument about it, which Jetfire decided to stay out of for the moment. Something told him that if he spoke up he would get hurt, whether verbally or physically. Besides, he was more worried about what Arcee had said. Did she really mean that? Did everybot have to find a sparkmate?

If that was true, he probably had a good enough idea of who he wanted his to be.

"Say, Jetfire, let me put it this way, sweetie." Arcee began, seemingly ignoring the fuming Blackarachnia, who looked like she was going to attack, "Does Red Alert act out of character for any reason around anybot? Anybot at all?"

"Arcee!"

Jetfire thought about this. Red Alert didn't act very strangely often. She was very serious, concentrated on work and not tolerant of any nonsense, whether it was intended to be or not. And he had yet to come across a day when she wasn't acting the way she usually did. At least, around him and his brother and Wheeljack…

"Vell… sometimes she is smiling more often and out-spacing around Perceptor sir." He said.

"A-ha! I was right!"

"Oh stop it, that doesn't prove anything." Blackarachnia huffed. "You may as well ask the boy if _he_ acts strangely around anybot. See what he says!"

"Alright then! Did you hear that, Jetfire sweetie, or do I have to repeat myself?"

Jetfire gulped a bit, and tried to calm himself down. He was still holding the pot of energon drops, and if he got too excited, then he'd burn them. The question had really caught him off guard. They had been talking about Red Alert, right? Not about him. It was like Arcee had known what he was thinking about. He steadied his servo on the pot and considered his answer.

"Um… Vell… there is being… _one_…"

"Ooh! Do tell!" Blackarachnia shot Arcee a stern look, before sighing and giving up her fight. Jetfire gulped again, and let go of the pot to keep it from burning. They wanted him to answer? He tried to find the words to describe his feelings. He hoped his head wouldn't catch fire again.

"S-she is being… very different from me. I… I is being very…" What was the word? Anxious? Tense? He was never good with describing his emotions, and this particular emotion was even worse to talk about.

"Nervous?" Arcee offered.

Jetfire nodded. "Yes, that. I… I is never able to be saying proper sentence in front of her. I keep tripping over own vords."

"Worse than you do now?" Blackarachnia smirked.

"Blackarachnia!" Arcee reprimanded.

"I'm just saying!"

"_Yes_, vell…" Jetfire began, "I is not knowing vy but, venever I is seeing her… my… my spark is beating faster than is ever beating before and… and I is not able to talk to her because… because…"

Why? Why _was_ it so hard to talk to Flareup? She was just really forward and confident and knew more things than he did… So why didn't she like him? Sure, he did blubber a little around her, but that day is over! He wasn't always like that, anyway! But she never gave him the chance to talk to her. Never gave him the chance to start over again and be at least friends. He couldn't even talk _about _her.

He wished this conversation was over.

"C-Can I please to be going now?" Jetfire finally managed to ask.

* * *

"Oh! Hey little buddy!"

Jetfire was glad he finally found the hut of the reclusive artist. He had been looking for megacycles. He had to talk to Bulkhead, not necessarily because he had any extreme fountain of wisdom or anything; he just had nobot else to turn to. He had surmised that Bulkhead would understand him better than Glyph, since she had been preoccupied earlier this morning about some sort of spaceship or other. He couldn't care less. He had to talk to somebot about this. He just didn't know where to start.

"I…I…"

"Come on in! The picture's done, you gotta see it!" Before Jetfire could protest, the larger mech pushed him into the hut. He could hear the sounds of a video screen playing the news in the corner. He wasn't too sure if he was interested, just some sort of live recording of an old spaceship, probably the one Glyph was talking about earlier. Something about the history of Omnicron or something. But he didn't want to listen… well, not to the screen anyway.

He decided to look at the 'picture.'

The first thing Jetfire thought was that it didn't look like him. It was more of an orange… thing. He vaguely saw it as the shape of a `bot, with a tribal stick-thing in its servo and a distinct spider-shape underneath it. So this was Archibald's great memory skills? Not very impressive; the `bot had no face, and barely resembled him other than the fact that he… she? It looked very feminine. Well, whatever it was, it was floating.

But the longer he looked, the more he noticed something. He wasn't sure if he could pinpoint where it was coming from, but there was a distinct feeling of… something. Maybe… maybe it was the colors? He had noticed that all of the colors used were shades of orange, pink, and purple, with yellow for the sky. He wasn't sure why, but something about this felt… young? The orange and yellow reminded him of fire. Then he thought about the rest of it. No… this time, he _felt _it. He felt emotion, all by looking at the painting.

He felt free.

"So, d'ya like it?" Bulkhead asked.

"…Is beautiful…amazing…" Jetfire mumbled, his optics wide with disbelief. How? It was just an image. It was barely recognizable as a 'bot flying above a spider with a stick in his servo… and yet…

"Ya think? It's really not done yet…I still need to finish the face, but I was waitin' till you came back to make sure I absolutely get it right, so-"

Face. He wasn't sure why, but it reminded him of why he came back. Why he looked out for Bulkhead for so long and not immediately go to Glyph. His face was nothing of importance. He shared it with another `bot. A certain `bot that he couldn't talk to right now, even though he should be able to with ease. Jetfire couldn't let him keep talking.

"I am needing your help, Bulkhead sir!"

"What?" Bulkhead's faceplate grew concerned, "What's the matter, Jetfire?"

"I…I…" He could feel the oil welling up in his viz scanners, his head overheating and threatening for him to burst; whether into flame or into coolant, he did not know. "I cannot be hearing my brother, Jetstorm…"

"Who?"

"JETSTORM!! HE is my twin and he is important and I vas not wanting to leave and be alone and away from him and unit of family and and and fortune-bot said I vould be losing something important and I am afraid I vill never be hearing him again, and maybe I should just be going home to make sure he is being alright but I cannot because I is not knowing way home and—"

"Woah, woah, slow down!" He said, "You can't hear your twin? Is that it?

"Yes!" Jetfire started to get angry, disappointed, and hysterical at the same time. How could he just talk to him like that? Like his twin wasn't important at all!? "He is my twin and ve vere being together since solar-cycle ve is protoformed vith same face and same body and I… I-I…"

He cried.

He cried and cried and cried and his knees gave way and he couldn't contain himself anymore. His vocalizer made strange, ghostly moans and coolant splashed all over his hands, with oil dripping through some way or another. He couldn't contain himself anymore. He couldn't bear to lose his other half.

He felt Bulkhead's claw-finger cover his back and pat him lightly. He tried to force the buildup in his olfactory sensor back, and looked back up at Bulkhead. He was now about as low as he could get, and smiling at him.

"There there… it's alright. It'll be okay."

"No…" he said between trying to get the buildup back or out or something, he didn't know. He never cried so hard that buildup manifested in his olfactory sensor. "No is not being okay…"

"Yes it will! I'm sure he'll answer you soon enough! Maybe you're just… I dunno, overdoing it or somethin'."

"But he always answers me."

"I'm sure it'll come back."

How could he not be taking this seriously? This was his brother! His twin! He couldn't do anything without him! This was a life and death situation! All those horror stories he had heard of twins being separated for too long… he had once heard of a pair of mech/femme twins that were separated before being protoformed and growing up as two completely different people, and then suddenly finding each other. It wasn't a happy ending, because when they had gotten far away from each other to go back to their original homes, they dropped offline.

"But…vat if it doesn't…?"

"Look, something like this happened to me before, so I know what you're going through." That was it.

"NO YOU IS NOT! You is never being split into two pieces and having to be going through this… this just _hollow _feeling and… a-and…" He wailed and buckled down, too miserable to leak anymore oil. Bulkhead's claw-servo still hadn't left his back, and then it started going up and down, up and down… was he... rubbing his back? Wheeljack had done that only once before. When Jetfire had thought he had killed Red Alert.

"There there. I-I know I… might not have gone through _exactly _what you are… but there was this one time that I couldn't paint for a real long time. It was terrible, not being able to do the only thing that mattered to me. But then I realized that I just had to take some time and… y'know, find what was inside of me. My spark. All the old works I did were copies of what other people did… like Picasso, or Van Gogh. I copied their way of doing things and tried to do what they did, but it just… wasn't me, y'know?" Jetfire considered this. He always tried to be like Jetstorm, tried to be stronger and calmer and think things through before actually doing things. Maybe he had more in common with Bulkhead than he thought.

"Then it all came back, just like it had never gone. One day I decided to just take a paintbrush to paper and just _draw_, and didn't think about what I was making. I found my own way of doing things, and `bots started understanding my works better. So I came here." Bulkhead explained, "Around here, no one can tell me my art looks like oil spills or ketchup stains, but they still don't recognize the actual figures here. Around here, `bots understand the _emotion _behind it. That's why I'm here." He smiled at Jetfire, but this time not because of his chinplate. "This will all turn out okay, I know it."

Jetfire nodded. Bulkhead was right. This wasn't forever. He wouldn't fall apart just because he wasn't Jetstorm. He was Jetfire. But if he was Jetfire, then what did he do? Bulkhead painted, Perceptor and Wheeljack were scientists, and Jetstorm had nothing. Jetfire had a delivery service, sure, but… he wasn't sure why he would do this anymore. He shook his head. His thoughts were going nowhere. It was hard for him to analyze things properly like Perceptor or Wheeljack or Jetstorm.

The voices from the video screen suddenly became more urgent, and caught his attention.

"Oh my spark…Omega Supreme is being sucked into an electrical storm!!"

Jetfire crawled over to the screen, watching the horrifying images as they were brought up. There was an old, giant ship hovering over Omnicron, high above the ground. There were millions of `bots - maybe the entire population of Omnicron - holding on to wires and ropes, desperately trying to keep the ship in place. This was the same ship he had seen earlier. He began to get worried. What if somebot got hurt?

"Vat is being Omega Supreme?" Jetfire asked, hoping Bulkhead knew more about the situation than he did. He wanted to know exactly what was going on.

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's some sort of transport ship or something."

"Then vy is people trying so hard to be keeping it on planet?"

There was a short pause. Bulkhead seemed to be contemplating his response. Jetfire hoped he knew more than he did about it. He wasn't sure if he knew anything anymore.

"Y'know, sometimes you don't need to look too hard. Usually you just have to step back and just watch and listen." Jetfire paused himself, thinking. He wondered if Bulkhead was smarter than he had initially thought. He wanted to kick himself. He shouldn't judge him just because of his size, or the way he talked, or where he lived. There was probably a lot about him that he just didn't know.

He decided to focus on the screen. He listened to the announcers.

The screen zoomed in, showing a small wire on the bottom. Almost all of the `bots had lost their grip, except for one. Jetfire gasped.

No. This wasn't happening!

"OH NO! The force from the storm is too strong! If this keeps up, the first ship ever to land on Omnicron will be lost forever!! Wait… What's… OH DEAR ALLSPARK, THERE'S A--"

"I have to be going!" Jetfire almost screamed, cutting off the announcer. He was out the door in a sparkbeat, Bulkhead following after him.

"What is it!? Did something happen!?" Bulkhead called after him.

"That's my friend out there!" Jetfire replied, before flying off the planet and into space.

Jetfire flew faster than he ever had before, threatening to blow out his boosters in the process. He had to get there, and soon. He couldn't lose Jetstorm and her in the same solar cycle. Even though she had never been nice to him, even though she made it clear she never wanted to see him again…he had to do it. He had to save her. He just had to.

Omnicron seemed so far away. He didn't have time to fly there!! The ship could have broken down, or fallen apart, or maybe even _gone_ by the time he got there. He wished he had transwarp abilities. He knew of a flier who had such powers, though they weren't exactly a poster child for courage. Although they were only able to go a short distance, it would still make this go faster. Everything suddenly seemed to go much slower than it should have.

Finally, he reached the planet, zooming through the airspace, frantically trying to find where the ship was. He didn't expect it to have gotten so high up by the time he got there; though it didn't seem to be going any higher. That was good. He was _severely_ exhausted from his trek to get there. If he had to fly any farther he thought he'd faint.

Carefully, he maneuvered over to the wire, transforming into robot mode with his servos extended. He had to focus. He had to focus on the ship and the wire and the one femme that was slowly losing her grip on it. He started falling a little bit, and flailed around to try and keep his balance. This was not the time for his boosters to go haywire! He looked over at the wire, now less than a mechanometer away from her. She was on the edge of the rope now; one slip and she'd fall to her offlining. Mustering all the control he had, he shot forward, grabbing her as best he could into his arms.

"Hey! Hey! Whaddaya think you're-!" Flareup shouted, most likely out of surprise than actual disdain. After all, he _was _to her back when he shot for her. He was a little curled up and wasn't exactly in a comfortable position for holding a body, but at least she wasn't going to fall anytime soon. She looked frantically around, and finally caught sight of his optics just above her head.

"Is okay. I have got you." He assured. For the moment, that was. He was amazed that he was able to form a whole sentence; Pits, he was amazed that he was _holding Flareup in his arms _like some sort of Super Bot_._ He was _flying on his own_ and he _rescued a femme_ and he wasn't bursting into flames! He _was _Super Bot! He felt as though he could do anything.

"We have to get back on the ship! It's going to crash!" She insisted. Then she took a closer look at him, "Hey! It's you! What the slag are you doing!?"

Super Bot quickly deflated into Jetfire. "I…you see…I…"

"Stop babbling and fly us back up to Omega Supreme! If we don't get it to land it'll fly right into the electrical storm!" She ordered, pointing at the ship above them, only this time with something he didn't notice earlier. There was a large electrical storm with lightning and thunder shooting every which way. No wonder it took him so long to get here! That must have been interfering with his velocity or something.

"Uh, _hello; _femme in your arms, spaceship about to fall apart and crush the entire city of Omnicron, _WAKE UP!!!"_

Jetfire didn't hesitate for a nanoclick. Up to the ship he went, even though he was unsure of what he was doing. After all, he had little to no idea how an actual spaceship worked. Oh sure, he _transformed _into one, but that didn't mean that he knew how to _drive one_. All the way, Flareup fidgeted in his grasp, as if uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if he could blame her, but he still felt a little sad at the small movements. Then he got an idea.

"Hey! What're you—AGH!" He stopped, and tossed her up into the air; not too far, though, so that he could catch her. When gravity inevitably pulled her back down, he caught her by the crook of her kneecaps and underneath her arms. Much more comfortable, he thought.

"Better?" he asked, hoping she was feeling a bit better now that he wasn't holding her like a rag doll.

She slapped him.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" He barely registered Flareup yelling at him. Jetfire didn't know what was happening, but he suddenly felt as though he was falling. Not for too long though, since he caught himself quickly with his boosters. He stopped hesitating, avoided Flareup's gaze, and started for the ship once again. He hoped he wasn't causing more trouble when he was just trying to help. He hoped Flareup would forgive him for being such a numb-node.

"Over there! There's a hatch underneath Omega Supreme's cockpit, I'll open it up and you get us inside!" Jetfire nodded, and pushed his boosters up to their maximum. Once they had finally gotten there, Flareup grabbed onto the hatch bar and made sure not to let go.

"Alright, now turn your boosters off!"

"Vat!?"

"JUST DO IT!!"

Jetfire obeyed, and fell down. He immediately grabbed onto whatever part of Flareup's body was immediately available, and ended up grabbing onto her torso, just above her hips. Flareup didn't whine or yelp; in fact, if it wasn't for the obvious discomfort barely contorting her faceplate, he wouldn't know that she was in pain at all. How was she able to hide pain so easily? He couldn't even bear to be sad without almost immediately bursting into tears. And yet here was Flareup, probably feeling as though something was trying to pull her apart, and she did almost nothing to let anyone know she was in pain.

She really was beautiful.

Then the hatch gave way and Jetfire felt a surge of emergency. Almost unconsciously, he turned his boosters' power back on and shot right into the cockpit, taking Flareup with him and closing the hatch almost immediately. Then he hit himself on the head, and fell down. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he could tell that he was swimming in between awareness and oblivion. He caught a few glimpses of Flareup's feet, which he hadn't really gotten a good look at. They had heel struts and seemed to be very uncomfortable.

He also got other images. There was a close-up of her torso, then he could see her talking to someone on a screen, and then he could hear bits and pieces of an argument. When his processor finally decided that he should be up and alert, he got a splitting processor-ache. It was almost as if his head was going to split in two, just like his original protoform. He wished now more than ever that he could hear Jetstorm. He didn't know what to do anymore.

He onlined his optics, and found Flareup glaring at him.

"Do that freaky thing with your head again. Make it go on fire."

"V-VAT!?" Jetfire gasped. What was going through her processor? He was trying _not _to have his head randomly go on fire at any randomly given moment. What was going on anyway? He realized that he was on a chair now. Flareup must have put him there. Immediately he forgave Flareup for whatever she did earlier to make him angry. To be honest, he already forgot why he was angry.

"Omega Supreme has a security system that detects differences in temperature. If it senses heat from a fire, it'll go back to automatic steering and land itself at the nearest landing strip. If you set a fire here, the ship will take care of itself!" She explained.

"I…I cannot be…"

"Slaggit, Jetfire! I just asked you to do _one_ thing, just _one little thing_, and you can't even do that! Now we're all going to go offline!"

Jetfire was faintly aware that Flareup was intensely angry at him. He also knew that his life and Flareup's life was in an incredible amount of danger. But now that didn't matter anymore. He could easily go offline now and he wouldn't care.

Flareup had said his _name._

It wasn't just the fact that she said it, but that she remembered it. He didn't know where she had heard it; he couldn't remember telling it to her. Maybe someone else told her, or maybe she had figured it out on her own with his delivery service. But however she had learned it, she had stored it away. Kept it in her memory core. Cared enough about him to remember. He couldn't help but grin stupidly.

"Why are you smiling like that?" His faceplate slackened. At first, he didn't say anything. What would he say anyway? That he was glad that they were going to go offline? That he wished that they'd both die here and now? That he was glad that she had remembered her name?

That he loved her?

He wasn't sure how to feel right now. He wasn't sure if he should be angry or sad or disappointed or lovesick or anything. His processor almost split in half, and this time he was certain it was actually happening. He grabbed onto his head and pressed his fingers into them, trying to get the aching to stop, trying to push the halves of his head back together. Everything started spinning, and he felt dizzy. He began to feel numb, and wasn't at all sure what was going on. He vaguely noticed a sickening feeling of descent, and then he saw Flareup running towards him…

He could feel the dreaded wetness of water sloshing onto his armor. He winced. Flareup held the bucket that had the liquid in it in front of her, her other servo waving the smoke away. Where did she get that? She wasn't very close, and there was still a sense of heat. Was his head on fire? No. No, his head wasn't on fire.

His whole body was on fire.

Of course it was a lot smaller than it must have been earlier, but he was still horrified nonetheless. He could have burned something or maybe even Flareup. He felt sick in his fuel tank, and still couldn't think straight. Then the sprinklers built into the ceiling clicked on, and water sprayed everywhere evenly, putting out whatever fires were around. He just sat there, staring down at the floor.

It was over.

He just sat there, ashamed of himself ten times over. He had set the whole cockpit on fire. He couldn't look at Flareup, the thought of having burned her in any way nagging at the back of his processor. He wasn't even sure if she was even there anymore. Maybe she was dead, or had slipped into stasis, or maybe even fallen out of the ship. What was he supposed to do? Look up and see her dead chassis all gray and lifeless and cracked, staring back at him with the mocking sense that he had failed?

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

His head shot back up, and found Flareup staring down at him with no expression. He couldn't tell if she was angry at him or pleased with him or sorry for him or anything. But for some reason, seeing her alive and well, staring right at him, hurt more than looking at a dead carcass. She was too strong. Too powerful. He didn't deserve to be around her, he was such a spineless Fellyjish.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" He felt something drip down his faceplate. The sinking ship seemed to be mocking his emotional state; the longer he looked at Flareup the more his spirit sank, the smaller and weaker he felt. And yet, he couldn't look away. Buildup started forming in his olfactory sensor all over again.

Whatever was dripping down his faceplate was wiped away by Flareup. It wasn't what he expected, honestly. He had expected her to let go and walk away, never to speak to him or have anything to do with him ever again. But it wasn't. She stayed right where she was, steadfast and immovable, right beside him. And her finger felt so gentle on his faceplate, it almost tickled. And for the first time that he had ever known her, she smiled.

It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He smiled back, his emotion shooting from miserable all the way up to overjoyed. Their smiles grew wider and wider, and then they both started to laugh. Whether it was from the pent-up nervousness of the situation or what Flareup said, he didn't know, nor did he care. He wasn't listening to his own laughter; he was listening to Flareup's. It was nothing like any other laugh he had ever heard; it was overpowering and loud, and he almost thought he could hear an accent underneath it. Flareup had an accent? His spark started beating faster, almost as though it would shoot out of his spark chamber and fly out into the sky.

Through their laughter, Jetfire thought he could hear a small voice somewhere. It was very faint. Almost inaudible, but it was there. He lowered his own vocalizer in order to hear correctly, Flareup's overpowering laughter stifling as well. He curled up a bit, craning his neck down to his spark chamber. Could it really be him?

_Jetfire? Jetfire is you being there!?Jetfire, please to be answering me!!_ Jetfire's smile widened. Even though the tone was panicked and desperate, he had to smile. Finally, luck seemed to be going in his favor.

_I is here Jetstorm._


End file.
